On the wall hung a big eight-day
clock. Over the table, about which were placed chairs, a kerosene
lamp swung on a brass chain. Opposite each seat lay a square of
blotting-paper and some cheap pens and paper. Down the middle of
the table were three inkstands, standing in china plates.
The board always met in the evening, as the business hours of the
members prevented their giving the day to their deliberations.
Upon the night of the letting of the contract the first man to
arrive was McGaw. He ran up the stairs hurriedly, found no one he
was looking for, and returned to O'Leary's, where he was joined by
Justice Rowan and his brother John, the contractor, Quigg,
Crimmins, and two friends of the Union. During the last week the
Union was outspoken in its aid of McGaw, and its men had quietly
passed the word of "Hands off this job!" about in the
neighborhood. If McGaw got the work--and there was now not the
slightest doubt of it--he would, of course, employ all Union men.
If anybody else got it--well, they would attend to him later.
"One thing was certain: no 'scab' from New Brighton should come
over and take it." They'd do up anybody who tried that game.
When McGaw, surrounded by his friends entered the board-room
again, the place was full. Outside the rail stood a solid mass of
people.
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